Taken.
How do you expect me to stop,
When you're always taunting me?
How do you expect me to listen,
When all you've done is made me deaf?
How can you expect me to follow,
What lies in your open hands?
When the birds no longer chirp,
And the waves no longer crash,
For you expect everything,
Yet I give you my all,
And what do I get back?
Nothing.
For you take and never give.
How do you expect me to carry on,
When you surround my every move?
Stop and take a breath,
For you have run out,
And your mind has become void,
You take my life,
Yet I get nothing in return.
C.
YOU ARE READING
Impressions
PoetryThoughts, feelings, ideas, the important and the not. They say you express yourself through art, through paint on canvass or a strum of your guitar. Your entire being, your soul, poured out to create a single piece of artwork that gives others jus...
